Zombie in the supermarket
large and hulking
wearing flannel pajama bottoms
a jean jacket you could use as a sail
on any sized boat
his face a white moon
eyes glazed
plank-like feet shuffling
down isle nine

her hand slipped in minemother, she said,do you think it’s possible
that zombies go shopping
and buy cereal
write out a check at the register?
Do you think that zombies
might look just like anyone else
but still be dead inside?

Of Course Not, I said
squeezed her little hand
delivered a five point sermon on
the non-existence of monsters and
reassured her through four more isles.
I shuffled to the register
wrote my check
tried to erase the vivid picture
of the living dead
spooning Fruity Pebbles
into gaping mouth
milk spilling over chin, into collar
pooling in the slow, empty smile
teeth flecked with bits of red and yellow cereal